


Do Like Me

by SilverLynxx



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: A little snippet that got very out of hand, Canon Divergence - The Greatest Showman, Dirty Talk, Gratuitous Smut, Inexperienced!Phillip, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Bathroom, Prompt Fic, Semi-Public Sex, barlyle - Freeform, or in hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 01:34:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13916541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverLynxx/pseuds/SilverLynxx
Summary: Phillip shrugs a shoulder, trying to dismiss the whole thing. “You don’t need to make it seem so significant,” he mutters a little petulantly, staring into the bottom of his glass. Suddenly he has no taste for the remaining alcohol.“Phillip.” The man leans forward conspiratorially across the table. “You’ve just told me you’ve never had an orgasm, how is that not significant?”





	Do Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> So this was originally meant to be a short snippet in response to [@Crowleysheiress'](https://crowleysheiress.tumblr.com/) headcanon about Phillip having never had an orgasm before due to a strict religious upbringing. We all know PT is a bit more of a liberated deviant, so it's entirely his fault this fic got so long.
> 
> However this was written in one evening, so there's that as an achievment (I also do intend to upload more than porn at somepoint, I swear)

Barnum’s glass lands on the table with a clatter.

“ _What?_ ”

Phillip’s ears turn pink at the tips and he suddenly regrets how loose his mouth gets after a couple of drinks; or perhaps it was just Barnum’s ingratiatory charm that made him feel secure enough to spill his secrets – even the most embarrassing ones, apparently.

Phillip shrugs a shoulder, trying to dismiss the whole thing. “You don’t need to make it seem so significant,” he mutters a little petulantly, staring into the bottom of his glass. Suddenly he has no taste for the remaining alcohol.

“Phillip.” The man leans forward conspiratorially across the table. “You’ve just told me you’ve never had an orgasm, how is that not significant?” In any other situation, throwing PT Barnum for a loop would have been a relished achievement; Phillip feels cheated as he stares more heatedly into his glass, his face growing hotter by the second. Regardless of how empty it was, the middle of their local pub was not the place he wanted to have this conversation – not that he _ever_ wanted to have this conversation, especially with Barnum of all people. “Have you ever even touched yourself?”

“PT!” Phillip snaps, the remnants of his high-class sensibilities suitably galled by the man’s indecency. Barnum chuckles, some of his earlier shock giving way to amusement and, dare he say, even _intrigue_.  “I’ll take that as no.”

“What are you doing?” Phillip hisses when Barnum stands, hooking his hand under Phillip’s arm to take the slighter man with him.

“ _We_ , my dear apprentice, are going to rectify a severe oversight,” he announces with a positively wolfish grin. There’s a glint in his eye that Phillip doesn’t trust, but it lures him in regardless and he finds himself being led from the table. It’s hard to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“This really doesn’t require such fuss,” Phillip insists.

“If I hadn’t believed you before, I certainly would now; only a man who hasn’t experienced the pleasures of the body would say such a thing,” Phineas coolly shoots back. Phillip bites down a withering response as he’s led towards the bathrooms and unceremoniously dragged into the small room. The door locks with a distinct finality.

“Really, PT?” Phillip mutters with a grimace, but he doesn’t have time to scrutinise the space because Phineas is crowding him against the wall, hazel-brown eyes staring intently into wide blue. “What are you doing?” Phillip whispers harshly, his tone tempered by his expression which is soft with wonder. Phineas is a hard line of heat against him, and the difference in size is suddenly amplified in the way he towers over Phillip; he finds the air suddenly thicker in his chest.

“If you don’t want this, I’ll stop,” Barnum murmurs, his voice suddenly a low purr that penetrates Phillip’s body and curls itself somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. “You just have to tell me.”

Phillip exhales a timorous breath, but holds Phineas’ gaze in resolute silence.

With a bright grin that creases the corners of his eyes, Barnum reaches out and pushes Phillip’s suspenders from his shoulders. Those large deft hands undoing his trousers pull Phillip’s gaze to the floor, and he wonders if he’s slipped into a surreal dream at the table as he feels the buttons come loose.

“PT.” His breath hitches, the man’s name on his lips for no good reason other than to ground himself; to reassure him this isn’t a fevered fantasy as heat and trepidation create an explosive mix in his stomach.

He had never dared to touch himself – not when waking from his first erotic dream, not when adolescence brought with it an unbearable hyper-awareness of his own body, nor even as a man, when he woke in the mornings with his cock hard and aching. Was he now truly going to permit PT, his _employer_ , an older, more experienced _man,_ to do the most intimate things to him that he had always eschewed? The very profane acts that his parents, who would rather be strung from the rafters by their own virtue than contemplate such lusts, damned as dirty and immoral?

He chokes on a whimper as Phineas’ fingers slip past the material and encircle his flaccid cock, drawing it out into the open. The cold air on the sensitive flesh brings with it a feeling of exposure, but the warmth of Phineas’ hand on him stirs something else entirely. Phillip closes his eyes, cheeks flushed with mortification as the moment seems to pause, dragging out for an infinite amount of time. He jerks as Phineas’ lips suddenly find his neck, soft warm kisses travelling up his throat, and he inhales sharply when the man’s tongue traces the shell of his ear.

“Relax, just let yourself feel good,” Barnum murmurs in that same low rumble that reminds Phillip of thunder; distant, powerful, bringing with it a storm. Phineas’ fingers tighten around his length and Phillip gasps breathlessly, pressing himself back against the wall as something rouses hotly inside him, low in the hollow of his hips. Barnum’s hand, rough and callused with a history of hard labour, begins to move. Clever fingers tease the innocent velvet skin, and with the stirring of his arousal comes a familiar tension as his cock starts to respond to the foreign touch.

His stomach knots, and Phillip exhales deeply through his nose. He was certainly not a stranger to lust, but after so many years of ignoring and chasing away his erections with cold showers, he now associated the feeling of his stiffening length with shame and aching disappointment more than anything else. Yet under Barnum’s coaxing, feather-light ministrations, Phillip finds himself rapidly hardening, cock thickening as his skin heats up to an uncomfortable degree. His breath stutters in his throat when Barnum hums encouragingly in his ear, making his body tremble with words that would have felt patronising said by anyone else.

“You’ll have never known pleasure like this, I promise. Not the finest cigars or the most expensive bourbon can compare. You’ll see stars, and feel like you’re flying and falling all at the same time.” He speaks steadily, casually, like he isn’t waxing lyrical about the pleasures of the flesh to Phillip while stroking his cock with knee-weakening proficiency.

And that’s something else Phillip can’t quite work his head around as his breath staggers and the evidence grips him quite literally – Phineas having him pressed against a bathroom wall with his hand around Phillip’s cock, inciting the most euphoric pleasure that leaves Phillip's knees weak.

“Now, spit.”

“Excuse me?” Phillip looks up from the offending hand suddenly held expectantly to his mouth.

“This will feel much better with a bit of _lubrication_.” The way Phineas draws out the word has Phillip flushing and his stomach twisting strangely, but it doesn’t allay his initial revulsion. “It would be a bit peculiar to be offended by a bit of spit on your hand when you would happily have it on your cock, wouldn’t you agree?” Phillip’s whole body flares at the lurid image Barnum’s words craft, intentional no doubt, and he finds his resolve breaking.

Mouth curling to convey his displeasure, Phillip dutifully spits into the man’s palm, making a wordless sound as Phineas smirks and wipes away the saliva that clings to Phillip’s lip with his thumb. His hand drops, and Phillip is startled by his own coarse groan as Barnum grips him firmly with a new, wet heat. He ducks his head, flushing at his impropriety, but Barnum chases him, uses his free hand to pinch Phillip’s chin and raise his head again as his hand slowly begins to work his now achingly hard length.

Phillip’s jaw falls slack and he breathes in sharp pants as heat flares from where Barnum's fist encircles him, licking up his hips and inciting a fire in his stomach like he’d never known before. Barnum seems to take everything in, his dark eyes holding an intensity Phillip rarely saw outside of a performance as they observe Phillip's blissfully lax expression. His gaze then locks with Phillip's, and the weight of it makes his chest constrict – as if it weren’t already hard enough to breathe. He vaguely wonders how Barnum became so adept at working another man.

“C’mon, Phil,” Barnum coaxes, “Let me hear you, it feels good, doesn’t it?” His hand slides a little faster, squeezing with expertise, and Phillip’s eyes flutter of their own accord.

“Y-yes, yes, it does,” he admits with a whimper, barely aware he’s beginning to rock gingerly into the man’s hand as smaller, shyer sounds escape him with more frequency. Had he a clear head, Phillip might have been ashamed of his lack of composure, his own degeneracy at being in such a situation, yet with the heat of Barnum’s body against him, and his warm eyes watching him so rapturously, it keeps Phillip’s thoughts centred solely on the pleasure filling him like a rising tide.

Phineas makes a low, amorous noise in the back of his throat and shifts closer.

“Look,” he insists, their foreheads coming together as he encourages Phillip to drop his gaze. Together they watch Phineas’ hand work Phillip’s cock, the lecherous sight and the _sound_ captivating the younger man. His next groan trembles with the weight of his arousal. His gaze flicks up briefly when he feels Phineas take one of his hands in his own, and when Barnum brings it to his mouth to spit into his palm, it’s strangely not as repellent as Phillip had first thought.

“Your turn,” Phineas breathes with a roguish grin. Phillip’s forehead creases in question until the ringmaster guides Phillip’s hand to his cock to replace his own. Phillip’s breath catches, his fingers tentative and awkward as they curl around the thick flesh at Phineas’ behest. “That’s it,” Barnum encourages, his own hand slipping away as Phillip begins to mimic his previous actions. He’s fumbling and clumsy in his inexperience, and a flicker of embarrassment returns, but it’s quickly lost in the flush of excitement as he works his cock, able to feel Phineas’ gaze searing over him. That alone makes Phillip moan unabashed.

“Good, long and _slow_ ,” Phineas instructs, his own breath sounding ragged. Phillip finds himself obeying, slowing his strokes, dragging his fist from the very base to the head in a languid glide.

“ _Ooh_ ,” he moans, squeezing experimentally and gasping at the throb of pleasure it causes.

“That’s it, now grip yourself tight, just under the head – yes, just like that – and rub the tip with your thumb, that’s it, how does that feel?”

“Oh Christ, it feels good, really good,” Phillip breathes, squeezing again as he smears the slick head of his leaking cock with precum. His pace picks up as his hand slides more smoothly with the additional fluid. Phillip sags against the wall, spreading his legs a little wider as he starts to fist his cock in earnest, wrist twisting somewhat awkwardly, but the enthusiasm is there. Phillip bites his lip as a deep, longing moan rises unbidden from his throat. “A- _ah_ , it feels so _good_ , PT,” he pants, losing himself to the pleasure he'd long denied himself.

“Fuck,” Barnum growls, enraptured by the sight and the neediness as Phillip unravels before him.

Emboldened by the reaction, Phillip tilts his head back against the wall, bucking into his own fist as he feels an alarming pressure build inside him; an inexplicable swelling of heat.

“P-PT, _Phineas_ ,” the man gasps, a tremor in his voice as he peers through his lashes at Barnum, some uncertainty lacing with his desire. His hand moves faster, desperate, driven by an unfathomable need. “Please, please, _please_ ,” he pleads, unsure what he’s even begging for, but he’s locking eyes with Barnum and his body _craves_. His skin feels alight as sweat trickles down his neck. The unknown feeling is almost frightening in its building intensity.

Closing his eyes tight, Phillip turns his face to the ceiling as he feverishly jerks his cock under Barnum’s voracious gaze. All his senses are lost to the thick haze in his mind; it’s an overwhelming flood of stimulation, and he feels his dam fracturing under the pressure.

Phillip doesn’t know what noises he’s making anymore, only that his mouth is open and his unbidden sob is suddenly swallowed by Barnum’s lips as he kisses him roughly. His hand curls over Phillip’s own and guides his strokes, long and fast and tight as Phillip nears that forbidden precipice with a sweet, unknown abyss beyond it.

“That’s it, that’s it. You’re so close aren’t you? The sounds you’re making…” Phineas pants against his lips, pinning Phillip against the wall – the only thing keeping him standing. Phillip makes an incoherent noise as something finally breaks, and Phineas has to muffle Phillip’s cry as he comes with a blinding force.

Feeling as though his mind is wading through an incomprehensible wave of bliss, Phillip blinks sluggishly, roused by light touches to his chest. It takes him a moment to focus, and he finds himself on the floor of the bathroom when he can finally see clearly. He looks up at Barnum who’s kneeling over him, using a dampened handkerchief to blot the worst of the white stains from Phillip’s shirt. He flushes in embarrassment when he sees the ringmaster’s waistcoat hasn’t escaped unscathed either.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he rasps.

Barnum chuckles, that same low, amused rumble. “That’s quite alright; it’s something I should have expected, given the circumstances.”

Phillip groans in embarrassment, turning his head away. Phineas laughs, his thumb swiping something from Phillip’s cheek. He gapes as Phineas slips his thumb, smeared with Phillip's come, into his mouth to suck it clean.

“Now there’s a whole new world for you to explore,” Barnum smirks, helping Phillip to his feet. Thankfully he doesn't comment as Phillip initially wobbles like a newborn lamb. Phillip experiences a new mixture of respect and mortification when he discovers Barnum had already returned his trousers to rights.

“I-I’m sure,” Phillip mumbles, clearing his throat for good measure as he turns to the sink to wash the lingering stickiness from his hands. He can see Barnum dabbing the mess from his waistcoat out the corner of his eye.

“I’ve only introduced you to the basics,” Phineas continues easily, coming up behind Phillip to rinse his handkerchief. He stands so close he can feel the heat emanating from Barnum, and it thickens the lingering fog in Phillip’s mind, as if his whole body is now attuned to the man’s proximity. “Can you imagine the lips of a lovely lady around you?” he muses lowly, and a shiver runs unbidden down Phillip’s spine.

Not a lady’s, but Barnum's lips maybe.

Phineas inhales sharply, and Phillip’s stomach drops when he realises he’s said his thoughts aloud; he was truly a mess. Suppressing a grimace, Phillip casts Barnum a furtive glance. He’s somewhat surprised but relieved to find Phineas doesn’t look angry or uncomfortable by his untoward comment. Instead he’s regarding Phillip as if seeing him in an entirely new light, save for that familiar warmth in his eye.

“And would you like that?” Barnum hums, his hand coming up to cup Phillip’s cheek. “Would you like to know the heights of pleasure I could take you to?”

Phillip’s chest flutters and he matches Barnum’s level stare with his own. “I would be quite disappointed if you didn’t,” he returns with a more familiar confidence. He applies a smirk for good measure.

Barnum grins broad and bright, pulling Phillip into a deep, ravenous kiss that merely whispered of the sins Barnum could teach him. Separating with a heady exhale, he places a far more innocent peck to Phillip’s lips with pleased, lopsided smile.

“I’ll meet you outside.”

Phillip nods, letting the showman go ahead as he takes a moment to sort his rumpled clothing and sweep his fingers through his hair. The flush across his cheeks would take longer to fade than he cared to wait, so with a last steadying breath he leaves the bathroom.

Through the window he can see Phineas waiting outside on the street, so Phillip collects his coat and leaves some coins on the bar, pointedly not looking at the bartender as he walks towards the door. As he leaves, Phillip reflects on the sleaziness and yet undeniable poeticism of having such an encounter here; to have his second moment of liberation come to pass in this same bar at the hands of the same man.

As he shares a smile with Barnum, who nods his head with fondness before they start to wander down the street, he finds there is still plenty to learn from the greatest showman, and he can’t wait to begin.


End file.
